


you were beautiful

by Finally_Home



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional, Feelings, M/M, changmin's on the brink of suicide, most of it's in past tho, multiple tenses, no dialogue tags, soft, the present and the future switch with their respective tenses, yunho saves him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:02:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23083669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finally_Home/pseuds/Finally_Home
Summary: The problem with Jung Yunho was that he was all too pretty.
Relationships: Jung Yunho/Shim Changmin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	you were beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> [day6 - you were beautiful](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BS7tz2rAOSA)

He met him in the dead of winter, in the middle of his deepest period of self-loathing. He was broke, recently evicted, up to his balls in debt, and wondered if death might have been worth it. He met him during the night, legs dangling over the water, the metal of the bridge freezing his ass into numbness like the rest of his body and his heart. He wouldn’t have met him at all, he thinks, if it hadn’t been for the look on his face then, that gave the older man pause, made him turn and lean over the railing and say hi.

It wasn’t despairing, he later tells him. It was more… empty, hollow, like nothing in the world mattered anymore, and back then, it probably hadn’t. But your eyes, he says, caressing his face with a gentle smile. I never want to see that nothingness in your eyes again.

What’s your name? He’d said, leaning over the railing, the wind blowing his hair into his eyes. I’m Yunho.

He looked at him, kicked his legs a bit, and responded, Changmin. Yunho nodded, stuck out a hand as far as he could reach - which, was not far; the railing blocked his stretch - and waited, fingers bare and turning steadily red in the raw winter wind. Changmin looked at it, at him, the hopeful little smile lighting up his face.

What? He managed. It was all he could say, all he had the energy to say, and Yunho raised an eyebrow.

Waiting for you to shake my hand, he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Sorry it’s a little far, you’ll probably have to move. Be careful.

Changmin looked at his hand. It was definitely red now, and probably turning numb from the cold, but Yunho didn’t take it back, didn’t clench his fingers, didn’t do anything to indicate that he was cold. He only waited for Changmin to come shake it, and finally, with an odd stirring feeling in his chest, Changmin scooted his way over - carefully, using the bridge as a handhold - and shook it.

His fingers were cold, but Changmin’s were colder, and what little warmth remained in Yunho’s hand felt like burning on his. Yunho hissed and took his other hand out of his pocket - no gloves, Changmin noticed - encasing Changmin’s freezing fingers in his own. You’re so cold, he said worriedly, do you have gloves? At least you’re wearing a hat.

Yunho was not wearing a hat. The hood on his jacket had fallen back, and the tips of his ears were bright red, and so were his cheeks. His lips were too, glossy red under the harsh white of the streetlights as he blew on Changmin’s hand to try to warm it up. His other hand was clutching the bridge railing, and Yunho moved his leg to it. The rough denim scratched his skin, but Changmin barely felt anything. He was too busy looking at Yunho, drinking in the casually beautiful sight of this stranger who’d stopped to talk to him on the coldest night of the year and was now, without any compensation or anything, solely from the goodness of his heart, trying to warm him up.

The stirring in his chest grew until Changmin thought it might burst, and clumsily, he clambered to his feet. Yunho let out a shout, eyes widening in fear, and clutched Changmin’s hand closer to himself. Despite himself, Changmin left out a huff. I’m not going to fall, he said, and Yunho laughed, a little sheepishly, a little worriedly.

I was worried you were, he said quietly. Do you need some help? Climbing over. The railing’s a bit high.

Changmin nodded, and Yunho bent down, reached his hands through the metal bars, made from his hands a foothold, and held Changmin steady as he flipped himself - clumsily - back over the railing, landing with a soft oomph on the concrete sidewalk. Yunho’s shadow fell over him, blocking most of the light, and Changmin blindly held out a hand.

Yunho’s hands were warm, so warm, as he pulled him up from the ground, and the sparkles in his eyes held him captive, entranced. You’re okay, he breathed, moving closer, hands ghosting lightly over Changmin’s arms. I was afraid, I was scared, I was so scared, Changmin-ah--

He cut off as Changmin threw himself at him, wrapping his arms tightly around his neck, and felt his hands come up to circle his waist. You saved me, he choked out, the tears coming unbidden to his eyes, burning and stinging as only tears could. You saved me.

No. Yunho sounded like he was crying too. I don’t know what you’ve been through, but you saved yourself. You had the courage to stand up, after everything that’s happened, and face the world head-on. Changmin, you’re so brave. I’m so proud of you.

\---

Jung Yunho was every bit as beautiful as he had looked under the lights of the bridge. More so, even, as Changmin watched him laugh at some silly joke he’d told him. He had a very beautiful laugh, loud and rambunctious and unapologetic, as he tipped backwards onto the couch and slapped his own stomach in the process. His happiness was infectious, and Changmin felt the corners of his mouth lifting, and he climbed into his lap and took his face in his hands and just looked, just looked at him, the crinkles by the corners of his eyes, the slashing scar across the left side of his face, the slight tilt of his mouth as he smiled softly.

Changdol-ah, he said, and Changmin hummed in response. Changdol-ah, what’s wrong?

Nothing, he said, and it was true. Just looking.

Yunho smiled, eyes curving into crescents more perfect than the moon, and put a hand on his. Are you happy? He asked, quietly, and Changmin nodded. Really, truly happy?

You saved me. He leaned in. The late afternoon sun struck gold into the deep brown of Jung Yunho’s eyes, and Changmin found himself drowning in the lovely shifting subtleties of chocolate and molasses. You saved me, and you can say anything you want about how I saved myself, but I know. The truth. You saved me. I’m in love with you.

And when he leaned in all the way, Yunho met him halfway, the rose-petal softness of his lips gentle as they’d always been and the feeling of his hands on the small of his back, on his hips, on the backs of his legs, pulling him closer, higher, and everything was warm. Everything about him, his fingers, his lips, his neck. Changmin could melt into his heat, the perfect balance of his fingers threading through his hair and his tongue coaxing his mouth further open.

It had taken a while, that it had, but Yunho was with him every step of the way, letting him sleep in his own apartment when he could no longer live with his friends, lending him money to pay back the interest on his overdue loans, even staying up to help him study late into the night, quizzing him on vocabulary even as his own words began to slur. And he never complained even once, and sent Changmin off every day with a smile and a quick kiss to the forehead, despite being shorter than him, and for the first time in a long time, Changmin felt loved.

So when his chest felt full to the brim and he could no longer ignore the stirrings of some emotion he thought he’d long locked away, Changmin spilled out his soul to Yunho, admitted how much he cared about him as more than just a friend, asked if he would even consider for one moment to go out with him but if he didn’t want to it would be okay, he’d understand, and then Yunho dragged him up by the front of his shirt and stemmed the babble of words with a hard kiss to his lips, and that was the day Changmin knew he’d made it.

I used to want to be famous, he admits one day. I thought that was the only way I could be happy, if I had money and fame and all the attention of the world. Yunho watches him, eyes soft, and the city skyline twinkles behind them. But I was wrong. I didn’t need fame, still don’t need it. I don’t need any of that to be happy.

So what, Yunho asks, quietly, slowly, because he already knows the answer. What do you need, Changmin?

Changmin takes a deep breath, looks deep into Yunho’s eyes, finds a smile and an answer.

_ I only need you. _

**Author's Note:**

> this... did not turn out how i wanted it to? tbf i didn't know what i wanted from it either but i think this is good enough :")) funny thing is, i actually named this 'she was pretty' after siwon's drama because i forgot the name of the song for a hot second LOL
> 
> i think my favorite thing is describing how beautiful jung yunho is through changmin's eyes. i sort of wonder how many people identify with changmin but ult yunho, and that sort of also makes me wonder how changmin sees yunho... like, sometimes you do gotta wonder :"DD
> 
> i do not mean to romanticize suicide or thoughts of it in any way; this is a work of fiction and i am treating it as such


End file.
